


Locked Out || Locked Up

by Wolves_of_Innistrad



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Permanent Chastity, Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom Dean Winchester, Butt Plugs, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Getting Together, Kinda, Lace Panties, M/M, Panties, Panty Kink, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Pre-Slash, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolves_of_Innistrad/pseuds/Wolves_of_Innistrad
Summary: Dean gets kicked out of his apartment by his landlord Crowley during a fire alarm.  Said fire alarm woke Dean up so he ran to the lobby in only what he was sleeping in, a pair of panties, a butt plug and a cock cage.  Now with nowhere to go the neighbor he's been crushing on offers him in to call for help, but it may be more than either of them bargained for.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	Locked Out || Locked Up

Dean is in the middle of a very nice dream where his ex boyfriend Benny is fucking the living daylights out of him when the fire alarm wakes him.

In his sleep addled state he shoots out of bed, moving on instinct and bone deep trauma to speed out his apartment door and down the many fights of stairs. It’s only as he stops in the lobby, eyes fully opening and looking around, that he has time to catch his breathe and realize why he feels so strange. It isn’t that he’s still barely awake, no, the reason seems to be that he’s incredibly cold. And that’s when he looks down and remembers that he’d went to bed in his normal sleepwear for the last month and a half; lacy panties, a thick butt plug, and his cock cage.

Whoever scheduled No Nut November right after Locktober truly hated him.

There’s a split second where he thinks that at least they all match, the same shade of hot pink, before he begins to try to run back up to his apartment. Except, the moment he takes one step up his insides are assaulted by an intense wave of vibrations that leave him doubled over and panting. His cock strains valiantly, yet futilely, against the pink metal of it’s cage, beginning to leak beads of pre-cum into his panties. Dean bites his fist, trying hard not to die of embarrassment as he catches people staring at him from the corner of his eye.

With great difficulty he manages to make it to a storage closet where he rides out the rapidly fluctuating pulses of the toy, too far gone to remember he could just pull it out of his clenching hole. Instead he waits until the vibrations abate and then longer to hear that everyone else seems to have returned to their apartments. He makes a mad dash upstairs, thankful no one has seen him; not Charlie his downstairs neighbor that would surely have wolf whistled at him and drawn everyone’s attention; not Garth or Kevin his annoying upstairs neighbors; and thankfully not Castiel, the hot as fuck man he’s been trying to “casually” bump into from down the hall since the man moved in almost 2 months ago.

Upon reaching his floor however, Dean is confronted not with his still ajar door, nor even what he’d thought was a worst case scenario of it being locked and having to find a way to call his brother for the spare key, but a box of his belongings outside his door.

Okay, so yes he’d seen the “rent is due, now!!!” signs on his door, and slipped under his door, and in the mail. He was going to get to it, but business had been slow lately and he’d needed the cash for other things. Other things like the humongous depth training dildo he’d bought in a horny tailspin and was now sitting at the top of the box of his things, jutting out for anyone to see. Dean scrambled to try to grab the box and get inside, but the door was locked from within and he heard someone moving beyond it.

“Crowley you bastard! Let me in!”

“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin,” came an amused voice from behind the door.

Dean continued to pound on the door. “Come on! At least let me get some clothes, I’m practically naked!” He was gritting his teeth, trying to play nice now, hope the fucking devil of a man would at least give him that courtesy.

There was a light humming sound from the other side before “Nah!” Dean kicked the door and Crowley laughed from his end. “Do that again and I’ll call the police. You really want to be arrested wearing all of that?”

Once again Dean was reminded that the only thing even remotely covering the plug and cage was the floral print lace panties he’d worn to bed. He must be a sight, all 6’1” of muscle and macho bravado reduced to begging his landlord to let him get some clothes while dressed like a sub from a bad porno. His ass was hanging out thanks to it being a thong, and while he knew he looked good, all toned muscle and supple skin, this was a look he reserved only for men in his bed, and few at that even.

It was hard for a man that looked like him, had lead the life he did with the family he had, to admit what he liked in the bedroom so fiercely clashed with the image he wanted to, or at least felt he had to, present to the outside world. Now he was laid bare for all to see.

It didn’t help his traitorous cock wouldn’t stop leaking like a dang faulty tailpipe at the thought of his own degradation and being discovered. He’d have to update his Grindr bio to add in public nudity and humiliation to his kinks, as sad as it was.

He tried one last time to bang on the door only for the vibrations to start up again and cause him to slump against the wall, shivering and panting.

“Winchester if you do that again not only will I call the police, but I'll leave this on the maximum setting. I’m sure you’ll enjoy creaming your panties in the back of a squad car, won’t you. Perverted little slut,” Crowley muttered the last part, but Dean could barely focus on it as he whimpered from the pleasure/pain of the plug.

“Pl-please...” he pleaded, one hand jiggling the doorknob fruitlessly.

“I know you have plenty of experience with begging Winchester, usually on your knees, but I cannot be swayed with some puppy dog eyes and offers of blowjobs. At least not from you, and not when you owe me that much money.” Crowley’s footsteps could be heard as he walked deeper into Dean’s now former apartment, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the buzzing against his prostate.

Eventually Crowley took pity on him and shut the plug down plug off, Dean sighing. Finally, Dean stared down at the contents of the box to see what precious little Crowley had allowed him to keep from his belongings. The massive dildo was still there, as were his other plastic cages, a collar, a pup hood he’d not gotten to use, a handful of panties in various fabrics and styles such as a jockstrap, a few of his other dildos, a half used bottle of lube, one bottle of poppers, two very niche and very expensive imported fetish magazines, a Hot Wheel Impala, and the sole photo album he kept of his brother and him.

No phone, no car keys, no clothes. Great. Rat bastard Crowley.

Dean resisted the urge to kick the door once more, then resisted the urge to cry because he didn’t do that, even if the situation was bad enough to call for it. He started to walk slowly, defeated, towards the back stairs to at least mitigate some of the damage of being seen going down the main steps when a door opened to his right.

The wallpaper was fading, peeling in some places and a garish brown with yellow stripes where it wasn’t, framing a doorway that held the man of his dreams. Well, not literally his dreams since that had been Benny, no this was the object of his daytime fantasies, Castiel, his new neighbor.

“Do you, uh, need a phone to call someone?” Came the gruff voice out of the handsome, if stuffily dressed man before him. Castiel was wearing a cardigan and business slacks in the middle of the day, at home. It was hot in a suburban dilf kind of way that Dean really hated himself for. Not because it was bad, but because he absolutely knew his daddy issues had lead to some really fucked up daddy kinks and he needed to get that under control, but he kind of didn’t want to.

Dean’s mouth went dry, and then, watching Castiel glance, however briefly, down at the state of his body and undress, he began to blush. Dean Winchester did not fucking blush, except now apparently he did, his cheeks and neck tinting a matching shade to his outfit while his cheeks warmed almost as much as his other cheeks did after a good spanking.

“Um, yes, yeah,” Dean said, coughing to try to get his voice down to it’s usual gravelly timbre and not a high strung yelp.

“Come in then,” Castiel said, stepping aside to wave him in.

Dean entered and was surprised by how tidy and nice the apartment looked compared to his own. He’d be gracious in calling his former apartment a hovel, whereas Castiel’s place not only looked livable, but almost like it was an actual house. A home.

Turning to thank Castiel, he noticed the man’s eyes snap up from what was clearly ass level and he smirked. The smile fell off his face though when his eyes skidded past Castiel to his own door down the hall and a thought occurred to him.

The keys to his cage were still suspended in a block of ice in his freezer. He was trapped in the cock cage indefinitely until he could get Crowley to hand over the key.

Dean Winchester was standing nearly naked in his crush’s apartment, cock locked and leaking for the better part of two months, and he wasn’t even about to get laid. Someone upstairs must really hate him.

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I'd never written a Destiel fic before and with the show about to end I thought, why not get something in under the wire! I'm notoriously bad at WIPs, and mostly homeless rn, so don't expect regular updates, but I do have most of chapter 2 written already.
> 
> As always a big thanks to all my Wonderful Readers for all the comments, kudos and subs.


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